


A Perfect Storm

by audreyslove



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 06:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18632845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyslove/pseuds/audreyslove
Summary: Bandit!OQ/DOQ fic.Regina meets another bandit who she finds she has quite a bit in common with.





	1. Chapter 1

Regina steels herself and opens the heavy door to the tavern, preparing for the worst.

This place is off the beaten road, unlikely to draw in the Queen’s guards and spies, and thus it’s become a sort of safe haven for runaways and criminals. Regina is both these things, and cannot afford to eat and drink and warm herself at the safer, better lit places near town. So when she has a bit of coin, and when her clothes are soaked to the bone, she wanders in for a pint of ale and some of the warmth of the fire.

She’s one of the few women who frequent the tavern while they are off the clock. There are working women there, barmaids and harlots alike. But women customers? And single one at that?

She stands out, so she tries to avoid going to the tavern at this late hour, except when it’s necessary. And it’s necessary now, as it’s pouring down rain, and she desperately needs some shelter, and some heat.

She’s readied herself for the hoots and whistles she's grown accustomed to every time she steps inside the rowdy bar. But this time, there's not a single sound to be made.

She looks around, puzzled. She should be relieved, _is_ relieved, to finally not have a captive audience watching her every movement.

“You’re not the only act in town, sister.” The bitter dwarf scoffs at her, rolling his eyes at her as she makes her way up to the bar. And then she looks around to see exactly what that idiot had been referring to.

The eyes of the entire tavern are on the woman with the wavy blonde hair in the corner.

Regina takes a moment to admire her.

She's wearing a dress still, but it's soiled and damp. Her hair is tangled and untamed, with bits of leaves stuck in some of the strands. It has probably been awhile since she’s had a real place to sleep.

“That's Maleficent,” Granny says, handing Regina a pint. “ _The_ Maleficent. God knows how she got all the way over here. The girl’s wanted dead or alive by Queen Aurora. Between you and her, I'm making enemies with two of the most powerful sorcerers in the land. The queens will probably have a showdown right here and burn the place. So thanks for that.” The old lady frowns. She talks a big game, but Regina knows Granny worries about her, about almost all her customers. When she had nothing, Granny dropped her a key and told her to keep warm for the night, on the house. She justified it of course, by saying that if Regina died, she'd lose a loyal customer. She was only investing in the girl, hoping to get many years of drinks out of her.

The next time she handed her a room key, Granny said it was because she had become an attraction of sorts at the tavern, and if Regina died she'd lose a “free show”.

When she gave her a room with a bath, it was because she needed her “talent” to stay fresh and healthy. And the herbs she had found when Regina fell ill, well, she had to heal her up quick before she spread whatever it was to all the patrons of her bar (she didn’t kick her out that time, of course, she gave her a bath and menthol leaves and asked for her dirty clothes so she could wash them, that stubborn, transparent woman).

So yes, Granny cares. And it shows, in the way she looks at her, with that glimmer of worry. “You should talk to her. Give her some tips for the bandit life. She’s holding her own quite well here, but I'm not sure how she’s lasted this long. She does not look well.”

Granny hands Regina a key without a word as to who it's for or why she's giving it to her. At this point, the key exchange on rainy nights has been somewhat of an unspoken arrangement, but given what they just discussed, she believes Granny intends the room for Maleficent. But hell, it's pouring down rain and she is cold and tired of the forest floor. She'll keep the room herself unless it's taken away from her.

Regina makes her way to an open seat. She glances at the men congregating around Maleficent and rolls her eyes. The woman is doing well though, batting away hands and giving death stares so deadly cold that Regina can feel them from over here.

She’ll have to learn how to make that face because it seems to be working.

“She’s worse than the ice queen over here,” grimaces one of the bar’s regulars, pointing in Regina’s direction.

“I’ve always wanted to meet an ice queen,” Maleficent drawls, motioning for Regina to sit next to her. “Come here little one, let’s be frosty together.”

Regina likes to keep to herself. She was content to find a place as close to a fire as possible and sit while her wet clothes warm and dry. But she finds this woman so intriguing, she wants to talk to her. And not out of some obligation forGranny, either.

So she takes her mug of ale and moves to Mal’s table, sitting where a disgruntled drunk has just left, cursing about Maleficent being some sort of tease.

“You must be Regina,” Maleficent says, holding out her hand. “I’m Maleficent. Though I’m sure you know that.”

Regina nods. “I’ve heard of you... but Stephan’s… I mean _Aurora’s_ kingdom is far from here—”

“Yes, well…” Maleficent looks down at her soiled dress and sighs. “I was doing just fine. I had made quite a life for myself in the neighboring kingdom. But then... Aurora employed the use of _fairies.”_ She wrinkles her nose. “Rather unpleasant creatures. They put a locator spell on me and found me an instant. I escaped from the dungeon knowing it was only a matter of time before I was caught. Unless I ran far. Even here... I'm not sure…”

She looks around, making sure none of the men are currently looking at her. Thankfully nearly all of them have their eyes focused on a newly erupted bar fight on the opposite end of the room. “I traded nearly everything I had for this. She grabs at the necklace she is wearing, to free the pendant that is currently hidden in her ample cleavage.

It glows bright green.

“Pixie dust?” Regina asks.

“ _Anti_ -pixie dust. Fairy repellant. Makes me invisible to the little bloodsuckers.” She puts the vial away, safely sandwiched between her perfect breasts.

“Of course, this means I have to start over. I stole this from a clumsy merchant.” She looks at her dress grimacing. “It's not my style. but it was better than the burlap sack I was wearing before. The sea witch needed the clothes off my back to make this.”

“ _Ursula_ gave you this?” Regina asks incredulously. She has always been fascinated by Ursula, so many myths about her. She admires the woman, so resilient after the entire sea has been set against destroying her.

Maleficent nods, and then she leans over to a nearby drunk’s messenger bag and scoops up an apple. She grabs a knife from somewhere (perhaps it was in her boot) and starts to cut it into slices.

“I've been on the lam for years, little bandit. I keep my ears and eyes open. I've had plenty of time to build favors and make connections. Unfortunately, I had to call in every last one to get to this. But it's been two weeks and there’s not a fairy in sight, so I'll take it.”

“I heard you were a fairy,” Regina whispers, “or some sort of—”

“Witch? Yes, so I've heard. I feel there's something inside me I haven't harnessed but…” She throws the knife she holds up in the air. It spins and tumbles up, then boomerangs down and falls into her hand, the handle right against her palm, the sharp blade pointing away from her. “So far my talents are quite... ordinary. Now, I've heard you are anything _but_ ordinary. Please, tell me the story of the masquerade ball heist, I've heard it many a time, and still don't believe it.”

They trade stories then, enjoy each other's company. The men around them are shut out, and ignored. That is until a particular man makes his entrance.

“Well, if it ain't the Prince of Thieves!” the dwarf shouts. Regina can't help but glance up, finding the handsome thief staring back at her with those annoyingly beautiful blue eyes. He smiles and winks at her. And then he must notice the woman next to her because he cocks his head a bit as if to say _Who is she?_

She sees John whispering something into his ear and assumes that he is explaining the identity of the blonde woman next to her.

“Well, I wouldn't mind sharing a hay tick with that specimen over there,” Maleficent whispers in a sultry tone.

“Who?” Regina asks innocently.

“Who do you think? The gorgeous one.” Mal points directly at him. Regina fights the feeling of jealousy in her, the voice inside her head that keeps repeating _Mine. “_ Who is that anyway?”

“Robin,” she breathes, staring back at him. He must be celebrating. There's plenty of ale being passed around, and men keep slapping him on the back. He's laughing and talking animatedly about something... but his eyes keep wandering back to her, offering her that smile of his that makes her heart skip a beat. She glances back at Maleficent who has her eyebrow cocked up, and it's only then that Regina remembers she didn't fully answer her question. “Hood,” she corrects, “Robin Hood. The Thief.”

“Ohhhh, _Robin_ is it?” Mal says, mimicking her earlier smitten tone.

“What?” Regina dares, scowling at her.

“Someone has a crush.”

“On him? Not in the slightest. We’re competitors, but he... well, we help one another out. He’s not… horrible.”

“Mmm,” Mal says, her eyes never leaving Robin’s.

Regina can’t help but look at him too, and she misses Granny approaching until she’s slamming plates down on the table. “This is from the _gentleman_ — and he did tell me to call him that, just so you know — over there.” Granny points at Robin with a roll of her eyes. But she likes the thief, Regina can tell by the way she always smiles at his antics before she quickly tries to act unamused.

It’s a loaf of crusty bread and a large bowl of that hearty meat stew clearly meant for the two of them. Regina’s stomach grumbles. It’s been too long since she felt _full,_ and this meal could make her feel just that. But... it’s charity. She doesn’t take charity.

“Tell the _gentleman_ to save his money,” she grumbles, “I’m more than capable of getting my own food.”

“Then why are you so god damned bony?” Granny mutters. “And he specifically said to give this food to you two ladies, so this time, Regina, you don’t have the right to refuse.” She turns to Maleficent, waiting for her response.

“Give him my thanks,” the blonde responds, breaking the bread hungrily.

When Granny leaves, Maleficent leans in, a knowing smirk on her lips. “I think your crush reciprocates your feelings.”

Regina rolls her eyes. “He isn’t my _crush,_ and he doesn’t have feelings for me. And I wish you wouldn’t have done that.”

“Regina, darling, we’re bandits, we’re outlaws. There’s no sense in saving face. We take what we can get in this world. I’ve been at this long enough to know that wounded pride hurts much less than an empty stomach. Or the pain of illness that comes from malnourishment. Eat up.”

And so she does. She downs the last of her ale (which was _supposed_ to be her dinner) and ravishes the stew and bread. Gods, she was hungry.

She glances up at Robin, half expecting him to be looking smugly at her as she finishes her helping of stew, but his attentions are on his men now.

 _Good_ , she supposes. The last thing she wants is to see that satisfied little smile on his face as he stares at her from across the room.

She wonders what great sting he’s participated in this time, and how successful it was. If he can afford to be buying this amount of bread and ale, she assumes it was quite successful.

He usually invites her over. Usually comes over to try to charm her, and they banter and trade insults until he leaves. She tells herself she finds it incredibly obnoxious and dull. But now that he is standing at the opposite end of the tavern, laughing and gabbing with everyone _but_ her, it feels like, well... she finds she misses it.

She puts those thoughts aside and focuses on her new friend. Who has time for men, anyway? Especially when there are interesting women like Maleficent around.

When Granny shouts that it is the last call for drinks, Regina thinks of her key. Perhaps her new friend deserves a good night's sleep more than her. But it's raining out, and her fur is still damp, and she’s unwilling to let this room go.

“The tavern owner over there — Granny, as she likes to be called — she gave me a room for the night.” She shows her the key. “It's most likely one of the big rooms that no one can afford to pay for. If you've nowhere else to sleep, I suppose we could split the room.”

Maleficent smiles broadly. “I do like that idea.”

They slip upstairs, Regina pausing to steal a glance at Robin. He’s three sheets to the wind now, a hand on that new barmaid’s hip as he makes her laugh and laugh. He doesn’t even notice she’s leaving.

So much for that crush, huh?

She swallows the bitter resentment down, that green and envious feeling she has no right to feel. He’s not hers.

And she doesn’t even like him, anyway.

.::.

The room is fit for the queen’s guards, should they ever wander to this abandoned corner of the forest. It comes with a fireplace and a _tub_. The fire is going already when they walk in, a cauldron of water already on the hearth.

“Well, little bandit, it seems the thief isn’t the only one you’ve charmed. This is quite the room.”

Regina smirks. She doesn’t mind admitting that she’s a favorite of the old woman. Besides, she’ll steal some chickens for her and deliver them to her kitchen like she always does. Proper payment for the room and the service at the tavern.

“Oh gods, it’s a _bath_.” Maleficent moans, running to the fireplace. “Help me carry this over there.”

It’s a heavy, full caldron of heated water. There are buckets of cool water nearby, to mix, and when they’ve filled the tub with all of it, the end result is a perfect, warm bath Regina would just love to sink into. But Maleficent deserves this more than her. Her body itches with jealousy as she watches her undress.

“I left my modesty with all my belongings back at the water’s edge. I hope you don’t mind.” Maleficent gropes at the lacing of her dress and pulls it apart. She slides it off her body, and… well, she’s quite the sight. Years of living on the run has done nothing to harden her curvy female figure. She’s gorgeous.

Well, at least this will distract her from thoughts of Robin and that wicked woman in the tavern.

Regina has always known this about herself, from a young age she’s known the thoughts and attention she’s paid to other females isn’t exactly the norm. She knows what the other noble ladies had to say about women like her, women who feel this way about _other women._ She bites back the feeling of shame that courses through her, a reflex, residual pain from a previous life she should have all but blocked out.

Those judgy women aren’t here. And Queen Snow may have made such thoughts and acts illegal, but the woman cannot see into her damn head.

Negative thoughts all but leave her mind when Maleficent leans over the tub, testing the water with her hand. She looks gorgeous bent over like this. Regina’s breath catches in her throat, and she does her best to look away as the blonde enters the tub, letting out a sinful groan.

“Oh gods, Regina, this feels so good…” she moans, “Can’t tell you how long I’ve been dreaming about a warm bath.”

“Yes, must be nice.” Regina can't quite keep the bitterness out of her tone, as her envy overwhelms her. She finds some towels, and hell, she can maybe rub out some of the grime with them. Her leather rucksack has a change of clothes. She can dry her current clothes by the fire. If she won’t be nice and warm, at least they will be by morning.

She tries her best to shield herself from Maleficent’s sight so she can remove her clothes.

“Regina, aren’t you coming in?”

What?

She turns abruptly at the question and looks incredulously at her. Maleficent’s hair is soaked with water now. Curly strands frame her face in a way that looks so positively _delicious._ She wants to run her hands through her hair, wants to feel those wet locks in her fingers as she kisses her. “I... are you asking me to share this little tub with you?”

“Mmhmm,” Mal hums. “It’s only fair you get to share. I wouldn’t be here if not for you.” She raises an eyebrow and cocks her head. “Unless you’re _uncomfortable_ with the idea. Afraid of me?” Her voice goes deeper, and it’s both seductive and taunting.

And hell, the idea of soaking in the heavenly warm water sounds amazing... and she'd be lying if she said she doesn’t want to touch and feel the wet, slippery skin of the beautiful woman before her. So she puts aside the worry that she may _embarrass_ herself by gawking too noticeably and focuses on proving she isn't afraid of anyone or anything.

She's careful to undress by the side of the tub, so she isn't directly in Maleficent’s line of vision. But she feels her eyes on her, and when she dares to look up, she catches her staring.

Her cheeks flare red, but Maleficent's do not. She just smiles and continues to stare at her.

Regina removes the last of her clothes, and her hands fly over her most private areas on instinct. It draws a small chuckle out of her new friend, just a light little bubble of a laugh that she tamps down quickly. Yet, it's enough to make Regina embarrassed of her modesty. She removes her hands and enters the tub from the opposite end of Maleficent. It’s small, but she fits, sitting down between that gorgeous woman's legs. Regina's own legs are bent at the knees, her feet precariously close to Maleficent's core. It's a bit dangerous, a bit unexpectedly thrilling, being all wet and close and naked with a beautiful stranger.

But she does not seem like a stranger, not really. She feels as if she had known Maleficent her whole life.

“You are beautiful,” Maleficent murmurs, eyes burrowing themselves deep into Regina's body. She doesn't hide her predatory stare, has no intention of ignoring the obvious physical attraction they have for one another. But... well… this is new for Regina. She blushes and babbles incoherently before finally managing to offer a _You too._

The captivating woman reaches to a nearby table and grabs a bathing rag and a rope of soap. She soaps up the rag and hands it to her.

“Sorry, don't want to be keeping all this soapy goodness for myself,” she says seductively. “Wash up.”

“Thank you, Maleficent.”

“You can call me Mal, little one.”

 _Mal._ Regina nods and swallows heavily. And then she focuses all that wanton desire, channels it into ridding herself of the grime of the forest that she carries on her body.

There's stubborn dirt that's clinging to her, pieces of debris she's longed to wash out, but the river is too cold this time of year for her to get a proper bath. Regina scrubs her arms and shoulders vigorously, paying special attention to her filthy hands. The dirt lifts away, and she feels more like herself, here, in this tub that she's sharing with an alleged witch, than she has in ages.

When it's time to clean her chest and torso, she has a shy moment. Mal has been watching her, mouth parted, eyes sparkling. Regina feels her insides turn liquid, desire flaring up even more than it had already. She wants... she does not know what she wants. Not really. Well, she wants to touch her. To kiss her, to trace her curves with her tongue... where did that thought come from?

Regina takes a deep breath and washes her breasts, her pert, tight nipples far too hard for such a warm bath. She lifts a leg straight up to wash it, and that's when she realizes she's won. Mal lets out an indulgent moan and now looks more... affected than amused.

She does the same with the other leg. Mal licks her lips and hums.

“You're a limber little one, aren't you?” Mal murmurs, “But as flexible as you are, I bet you can’t wash your own back. Turn around, let me get that for you.”

Well, the prospect of sitting between Mal’s legs while she rubs at her back does not sound bad in the least. She stands in the bath and spins, situating herself torturously close to the object of her desire.

“You have beautiful hair,” Mal says, swiping it aside to rub the expanse of her neck. “So shiny, so soft.”

“You do, too,” Regina purs. Something about not having to face Maleficent makes this... easier. The rag rubs gently as her skin tingles and turns to goose flesh. She moans a bit when Maleficent finishes rubbing, feeling the loss of her touch too acutely.

“Tell me, have you ever been with a woman before?”

The question shocks her, has her gasping audibly, then her cheeks heat and she knows she blushing terribly (thank god her back is turned).

“N-no.” She recovers a bit, and adds, “I’ve been with a man before.”

Mal scoffs. “And so have I. That doesn’t quite answer my question, does it?” She reaches for a pitcher of tepid water and pours some over Regina's head, then repeats the action. It's oddly soothing, sensual, as she plays with her wet hair, combing it through her hands. “Don't get me wrong. I'm not blind, I see the way you look at the _thief.”_ Mal lathers soap into her hair while scraping slightly at her scalp. “But you are like me, are you not?”

_Like her._

She's not blind, either, it seems. And she hasn't misinterpreted Mal’s stares.

“Yes. I am like you,” she agrees, in a voice that sounds surprisingly strong.

“So you are.”

Regina's insides grow white hot. There's a bit of a pulse she feels down below, a subtle throb that makes her _want_ for things she should not. She wants to touch herself, or maybe be touched, by this beautiful woman she barely knows, until the ache between her legs is soothed.

She never feels like this, not for anyone but Robin, and he... he's not an option. He's too busy with his men and his barmaids and his mind games to ever start something with the likes of her. And here's a woman she wants, who is warm and willing and she suddenly feels like a little virgin, unable to know what move to make next.

Mal pours more water over her head, washing away the soapy bubbles. She repeats the action until her hair is clean and free of the suds.

“My turn,” Regina breathes. She needs to touch her, to put her hands on the creamy flesh of her back and neck. Regina turns around, prepared for Mal to do the same so she can wash her back.

Mal doesn't turn her back to her yet.

“Hmm…” she says instead, running a hand through her hair, skimming through the locks that frame her face before shifting to slide down her jaw, to her mouth, letting fingers dance over each lovely lip. She cups her hand over her chin.

“I think it's still _my_ turn.”

It feels so natural, the way they meet for that first kiss. It's sweet, just a peck, and then Regina draws back to check Mal’s expression. It seems unbelievable to her that a woman so perfect, so strong, would want _her._

It's Mal who draws her back for a longer, deeper kiss. Tongues meet and dance and smack together. And one kiss becomes another.

And another.

And another.

Kissing her feels good. It feels right. She's only kissed Robin once. It was a mistletoe kiss, nothing serious. But she’d kissed him _good and proper_ as he would say, deeply and truly, and it's the only time a kiss has felt like _this_ does now, with Mal.

It's only been with Mal and Robin that she's felt this _need,_ this desire to go further, to touch and press her body against theirs, and _oh!_

Mal touches first, a hand gropes expertly at her breast while her other grips underwater at her hip, moving slowly down, down...

God, to be touched _there_ by someone she actually wants touching her, the mere thought is just—

There's a loud knock at the door, a frantic, uncoordinated thing, but loud as the hounds of hell. Regina and Mal both part from the kiss, moving to get out of the tub with a stealthy reaction of those who have spent too much of their lives hiding from certain death.

“Reginaaa!!!” a voice cries.

She knows that voice.

“Shit,” she whispers, scrambling out of the tub. Mal looks confused, until Regina motions for her to stay where she is. She nods and sits back down.

The knocking is louder now.

“Regina please open the door, please, I beg you.”

She grabs a towel and makes her way toward the door. The blasted thing is small, and she's barely able to cover her breasts and ass at the same time, but it will work for this.

“What do you want?” she asks, cracking open the door ever so slightly.

“I need to talk to you, don't do this, please Regina.”

He looks... well, drunk. But also desperate and sad. She's not sure what has brought him here, on a night where he was so obviously celebrating.

“Do what?”

“I... I was looking for you…” He's craning his neck, trying to see what's behind her, “I... I care for you so much Regina, you've no idea what you mean to me.”

She's unable to get that image of him with the barmaid out of her head. She rolls her eyes and sighs. “You have a funny way of showing it. Why don't you go back to Ingrid?”

Robin's eyes go wide, and he shakes his head furiously. “Because I care nothing for Ingrid! Her father is a guard at the dungeon, Regina, she can get me a key and find me a way to get those prisoners out and free, that's all it was, that's all it ever was.”

She looks at him skeptically, trying to hide the relief that washes over her. She knows he’s been trying to free the wrongfully accused for months, but the dungeon is well guarded, and the inside is one long, confusing dark maze. And well, maybe it’s wrong, to be happy he hasn’t moved on and into some woman’s bed when that’s exactly what _she_ was about to do (gods, she hopes it was) but… well, she rather likes Robin unattached.

“Why are you here?” she asks, her lips curving into a smile.

“I was looking for you, and John said, he _said_ you went to a room, that you were sharing a room with someone and I would lose you forever, and you need to know, Regina, you need to know, I’ve fallen completely in lo— “

A warm wet body slides behind her and opens the door just enough for him to see.

Mal wraps her arms around her somewhat possessively, peering over Regina’s shoulder at a startled Robin.

“I know you…” she purrs at Robin before dropping a very small, sweet peck to Regina’s shoulder. “The good looking thief who gave us bread and stew. And what can _we_ give _you_ , Prince of Thieves?”

Regina is frozen in fear, in shame, in….

The thief’s eyes grow wide. “I--I--my gods, Regina, milady, I— had no idea…”

He sputters and looks so absolutely mortified that it all but washes away all that negativity she was feeling. Suddenly the whole thing is amusing.

“No, you must come in!” Mal insists, opening the door wide.

Regina turns to her angrily. “ _Mal…”_

“Oh hush, let him in, my dear.”

She walks away naked, back towards the tub. “I’m going to finish my bath. You are more than welcome to sleep it off. It’s a big bed. And I can use all the friends I can get.”

Robin is smirking now, giving Regina that _look_ she absolutely hates (loves) that he seems to give every time he rolls the dice and ends up with snake eyes.

The look changes though, this time, and grows more serious, more… sensual.

“I shouldn’t have interrupted,” he whispers to Regina, reaching up to run a hand through her wet hair. “I just... this thing between us, I’m not the only one who feels it, am I?”

Regina cannot help but feel young and silly as she laughs and ducks her head to hide her smile. “No, you’re not the only one.”

“I’ll leave you ladies to your own devices, then,” he offers, kissing her cheek. “She’s gorgeous, by the way.”

Regina snorts. She supposes it’s Robin congratulating her on her successful pick-up, and it should be offensive, but coming from his mouth, it’s just cute.

“Have your men left?” Regina asks.

Robin grimaces and chuckles. “We were halfway back to camp when John spoke. I… I rushed back here high on whiskey and low on sleep.”

She doesn’t want him to leave just yet, she realizes. There’s a storm outside, and the man is alone and not quite sober yet.

“Come on in,” she sighs. “But I’m locking you in the wardrobe while I get changed.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” Robin says even as he teeters into the room on unsteady feet.

“You’re not intruding,” Mal calls out from the bath. “You’re making things more interesting.”

Regina bites her lip to suppress a smile as she wonders exactly how _interesting_ the evening will get.


	2. Chapter 2

“Regina, darling, are you coming back to the bath? Weren’t you going to wash my back and hair, it’s only fair, I did yours…”

Regina watches Robin’s eyes go wide for a second, and his face reddens even more than before.

His embarrassment gives her confidence. Besides, she likes seeing him blush.

But still, she’s not quite sure she’s confident enough to let him see her naked already.

“I’ll join you,” Regina says to Mal. And then she focuses on Robin, narrowing her eyes, “but you need to turn around while I get in the tub. No peeking or I really will lock you in that wardrobe.”

Robin chuckles, his hands up as he spins around.

“I shan’t so much as steal a glance, milady,” he promises.

“So you two really haven’t slept together,” Mal observes, rather incredulously. “I really would have thought you at least had _one_ drunken night the way you two look at one another.”

“I do not look at him any particular way,” Regina snaps, but Robin just chuckles warmly, his back still turned to her. She should be annoyed with him but instead, she’s just… amused. Cards are out on the table, right? He was very close to declaring his love for her— it would have been a drunken confession, not a true one, but even the fact an inebriated Robin loves her is enough to make her feel warm and safe. So she smiles, letting the towel fall as she slides back into the tub. “Oh hush, you,” she calls to Robin. “You _wish_ we had slept together.”

“Oh yes. I wish, pray, hope, dream of being with you, any of those verbs would be embarrassingly accurate.”

He’s _really_ drunk, but he makes her laugh.

“My gods, you’re out of it,” Regina mutters, trying to stop those fluttering butterflies growing in her stomach.

“In vino veritas,” Mal whispers, “He’s being very honest. You should pick tonight to ask him whatever questions you might have. Take advantage of all that whiskey acting as a truth serum.”

Regina rolls her eyes, but those warm butterflies keep knocking hard.

“May I face you now?” Robin asks, “As interesting as this wall is to look at..”

Mal raises an eyebrow and looks to Regina, clearly saying that it’s her call. Regina nods, and Mal calls to Robin, “Yes, you may turn around, thief.”

But his feet stay planted, oddly enough. He waits a few seconds before calling out “Regina—?”

Mal snorts, and Regina laughs too. But that level of care for her long-lost virtue, or her feelings is just so sweet.

“Turn around, Robin.” She leans in and whispers to Mal, “you too. It’s my turn, after all.”

Mal waits until Robin is facing them before she gets up from the tub, dripping and bare, and spins so her back faces Regina.

Regina watches her, cheeks heating, but not ashamed, her hands shaking with excited energy. She is beautiful, so beautiful.

Right before Mal sits down Regina steals a glance at Robin, finding him slack-jawed and stunned. A part of her falls jealous at the way he’s looking at her new friend, but she realizes he isn’t _just_ focused on Mal, the way his eyes burrow into hers makes her insides feel soft, a tingle of warmth spreading in her belly.

Maleficent sighs as she leans back into her, and Regina’s focus shifts to the beauty in front of her. Her hair is curled and wild, lush and thick, the ends already wet from the bath.

She will wash her hair first, she thinks. Which is fitting since she’d need to sweep that hair up to wash her back, and once she runs her fingers through it, she’ll doubt she will want to stop anytime soon.

Regina combs fingers through Maleficent’s hair and gathers the strands that have fallen over her shoulders. She feels Mal shiver into her touch and it thrills her. She gathers all her hair into a thick messy ponytail in her fist. And then she loosens her grip, slides her hand down to the wet ends of her curly hair.

Maleficent moans, her shoulder flex and her back arches, and it’s quite possibly the sexiest thing she’s ever heard.

Regina cards her fingers through her hair again and then leans out of the tub to grab at a nearby bowl of water and fills it, tilts her head back and pours the water over her.

“Mm, that feels amazing,” Mal moans, as Regina repeats the action and pours another bowlful of water over her hair. There’s an echo to her moan, a throatier, deeper little sound Regina worries she made herself until she follows Mai’s gaze and sees Robin. He’s seated on their bed, eyes dark and heavy with lust, the haze of inebriation still floating around in those rich blues.

“And who did you think was sharing a room with Regina tonight?” Mal asks, “because you seemed quite upset. And you don’t seem to mind me.”

“It didn’t matter which man,” Robin says, still in a daze. Regina is listening intently, but purposely not glancing in his direction. She lathers her tresses with soapy massages her scalp deeply, delighting in the soft sounds of pleasure that come out of her mouth. She’s practically purring for her, arching her back into her touch, and it’s very distracting for her mind to focus on both of them at the same time, as interested in Robin’s answer as she is.

“I knew every man left in the tavern,” Robin huffs slowly, “and I didn’t trust any of them.”

“But you seem to trust me,” Mal notes, “why?”

“You are an outlaw like us,” Robin says sheepishly. “And you would be less likely to turn me in, or forbid my friendship with Regina if you two were to be together.”

“Some would report us for simply sharing a bath together. Accuse us of sodomy and witchcraft. But you don’t seem terribly bothered by the idea of two women together,” Mal notes.

“I’m not,” Robin says at the same time Regina says _he’s not._

Maleficent’s eyebrow arches and Regina answers slowly, staring daggers at him, hoping he does not misread her words as praise, as she brings up Robin’s relationship with Mulan.

“A good female friend of his prefers women to men. And, loathe as I am to admit it, but Robin has always been very protective and welcoming of her.” Regina rubs at Mal’s scalp, drawing a little moan out of her, making her smile proudly.

“Gods that feels good, Regina.” Mal sighs. “You are so sensual. Good with your hands… and quite a good kisser, too.”

Regina is absolutely mortified. She can’t bear to see Robin’s reaction. She shouldn’t care what he thinks, but somehow, for some reason, she feels oddly committed to him in a way she can’t describe, and suddenly it feels like cheating, which is absurd, absolutely absurd—

“She is,” Robin admits. “Best kiss I’ve ever had has been with her.” He says it in this low, sultry voice, one she has heard before. He uses it sometimes with her, during the many times he’s tried to win her over, when flirting has gone from fun to more… serious. But she’s always running away from him when his voice goes low like this... when he looks at her the way he currently is, well, she’s afraid of how she feels. She’s not afraid of the warmth that pools at her belly, the way her insides melt, the slippery feeling between her legs. It’s the knocking in her heart, the surge of emotion that rises up for him that terrifies her.

But there’s a third person here now, keeping her from running, anchoring her. It’s not as dangerous, she thinks, with Maleficent here, and she’s suddenly very grateful for her for an entirely different reason.

She just met her, but Maleficent makes her feel stronger. More confident. Less fearful.

So where she normally would scoff at him and insist that their kiss was meaningless, that it wasn’t anything she _enjoyed,_ this time she bites her lip and agrees.

“It was a nice kiss.”

She lets herself blush and keeps looking at him so she doesn’t miss the way his eyes light up, the way her simple comment has clearly made his night.

“More than that,” he whispers, “more than _nice.”_

 _“_ Maybe you two shouldn’t have stopped at kissing,” Mal puts, and Regina bites her lip nervously.

“It wasn’t the right time,” Robin says, a glimmer in his eye, answering while looking only at Regina.

“Timing was never our thing,” Regina sighs, thinking about how he interrupted her tonight, interrupted what could have led to amazing sex between her and the beautiful bare woman in front of her. She should be annoyed at him for that, she should be, it was going to feel so good, if it happened, it was going to be amazing, she just knows it.

And Robin again had ruined it like he ruined every man’s attempt to court her. Oh maybe he doesn’t show up physically, but he gets in her head, to where she can’t stop thinking about him, and everything feels wrong without him. It’s so terribly unfair.

She should be livid.

Except she doesn’t feel that his interruption has actually ruined anything. A tingle goes down her back at the thought of it. He’s devouring them both with his eyes, and she wants….

Well, she wants them both.

This isn’t what she does. She’s not some sort of insatiable trollop. She barely ever thinks about sex, quite frankly the sex she has had has been… not the best. It’s been expected, when she works with some of the men she goes on heists with. And she doesn’t sell herself, it’s not like that, but she has definitely had moments, like when she and the Huntsman were on the lam together, where it just felt it’s what she _should_ be doing to have his protection.

And it had never been all that satisfying, never quite beat the feeling of sleeping warm and safe and dry indoors, but it was…. not so terrible. Especially when she felt so goddamn lonely and alone in the world it could have drowned her. It was nice, having a warm, solid body on top of her, smothering her in kisses and touches that could almost be mistaken for affection feeling connected to someone, and she had hoped that one day it could be more than just a way to feel okay.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he groans, as Regina bends down to grab the bowl to wash the remaining suds off of Mal’s hair. Her eyes catch his and something passes between them, some sort of understanding she hadn’t had before. Everything seems to fit between them.

It feels a little vulnerable somehow. It actually edges on being _too_ vulnerable, so she winks at him before combing fingers through Mal’s hair. And then she murmurs “Yes, she is.”

Robin smirks and shakes his head at her before agreeing. “You both are.”

He’s really… well, she supposes he’s cute when he’s like this — all turned on and awestruck, unsure of how to act, still drunk, but sober enough to know to censor himself.

She hasn’t really seen this side of him before. He’s just usually so cocky, so confident. But this is the Robin she kissed under the mistletoe. This is the man who looked like he was aching for more, yet gave her space the second she pulled out of the kiss (people were whistling and hollering so loud they broke through that little perfect bubble of pleasure they had built around one another).

Regina pours the water over Mal’s hair, and the suds drip away. Mal spins around to face her, looking so much like the cat that ate the canary, so devilish, so beautiful. Regina runs her fingers through Mal’s hair, makes sure there’s no trace of soap. Mal moans and tilts her head into the touch.

It’s so erotic, so sexy, and Regina is feeling bold, and oddly trusting of this new stranger and her old friend, so she closes the space between them and kisses her.

Mal kisses back, softly at first, opening her mouth to her, letting Regina take the lead. It’s exciting, and new, touching a woman this way after years of just fantasizing about it, and she finds herself drawing it out, letting everything simmer, slowly. The feeling of desire, of _need_ for her grows, and when she hears Robin mutter _gods,_ that sounds so wanton, so full of lust it hits her low in the belly, turning her on even further, fuck.

As Maleficent curls one hand along her neck, brushing through her wet curls, another slimming down her side, Regina thanks her lucky stars for the storm, for the rain, for her weak womanly sensibilities that had her coming to the tavern this night. Had it not been for that, she wouldn’t be kissing one of the most beautiful women she’s ever seen, she wouldn’t finally have Robin in her bed.

Regina’s hands haven’t wandered any further than Mal’s neck and hair, not yet, but as Mal drags her fingertips back up her side, she cups at her breasts, and it sends everything into overdrive, Regina moans into the kiss, almost loses her ability to breathe when Mal thumbs over her nipple.

“Should I—“ Robin’s voice cracks hesitatingly over the heat and passion of the room, and then he changes his question. “Can I—“

“Stay,” Regina gasps, looking over at Robin. She knows he’s been watching them intently, but he’s trying not to, his face turned away from her, and she could almost laugh. She calls his name to get his attention, and he spins around quickly, all hope and desire, fuck he’s hot, and pretending she doesn’t want him in this way is so exhausting. She’s not going to do it anymore.

She flashes him with what she hopes is a sly smile, a sexy smile and then kisses Mal, a deep, tongue-filled kiss that has all three of them moaning. She’s panting when she pulls out of it, needlessly giving him the permission he must _know_ he has.

“You don’t have to feel bad about watching us. We want you to.”

Mal chuckles (her hands have never left her breasts, and now they are doing delicious things, setting all her nerve endings on fire with a few well-placed strokes of fingers).

“That we do,” Mal agrees. And then she’s kissing her neck, her jaw, and finally pulling into another heady kiss.

“Mmm, I love your body,” Mal sighs, breaking the kiss. “Is this okay?”

Both her hands are on her breasts now, fondling, rubbing, and Regina has no idea why she’s even asking, she’s panting and rocking into the touch, must look absolutely absurd being so worked up over a few touches.

“Yes — oh please— please keep doing that.” Regina moans.

“You haven’t been touched in a while,” Mal notes in a sultry tone. But before she can even get embarrassed, Mal is rushing to add. “Neither have I, feels good, doesn’t it?”

“God yes,” Regina moans. “They’re— _ohh_! so sensitive,” she speaks of her breasts.

“Mm, and aching to be touched,” Mal notes, covering one of the stiffened, aching, yes, that’s what it is, _aching_ peaks in her mouth, flicking her tongue over it as

Mal withdraws her touch for just a second, grabs Regina's hands and places them on her breasts.

“Please,” Mal asks, _asks_ for something Regina has wanted to do since the first saw her.

Her breasts are perfect, and Regina’s heart kicks up a beat thinking of how to even touch her. But instinct (and lust) takes over, and then her hands go to cup each breast, letting them fall into her hands, two full, heavy handfuls. Mal’s nipples are pink, small, but perfect.

Regina lets her hands trace over the curves, slowly enjoying the feeling of a woman before her touches grow more firm. She cups and squeezes, rubs over her nipples (pert, tight little things that feel amazing under her touch).

Then Mal moans and draws her into a kiss, her hands pressing tightly into her back, holding her tightly against her. The kisses are more heated now, deeper, more urgent, Regina continuing to squeeze and fondle Mal’s breasts.

“More,” Mal directs, and then, “harder.”

Regina’s touch had been feathery and light, not wanting to hurt skin that could be delicate. But it appears she needs a bit of a firmer touch, so she pinches her nipples with more force, massages, and rubs, and is rewarded when Mal makes the most delightful of sounds, a gasping moan, throws her head back, eyes raised to the ceiling.

“So good, feels so good, Regina…”

A particular knead of her hands does something, has Mal embracing her, fingernails scoring down her spine as she hisses _like that._ She may leave a mark (Regina hopes it leaves a mark, she wants to see it, and think of it, remember their time).

When Mal finally breaks the kiss Regina moans in protest, chases her lips, but Mal’s mouth redirects to her jawline, her neck, her tongue searching for a sensitive spot. She finds it, her tongue swipes across a spot on her neck just under her ear, and Mal gasps out loud, tilting her head into the touch.

That’s when she first hears Robin. He moans a bit, drawing her attention toward him in time to catch him shifting awkwardly on the bed, eyes dark and narrowed in on her.

His expression goes soft when he notices she’s watching him, and he breathes in deeply, closing his eyes and wetting his lips with his tongue before offering her the slightest of smiles.

She quite enjoys him watching her, it turns out. She actually _wants_ to give him a show.

So when Maleficent's lips find their way down to the swell of her breast, she stops worrying about what Robin may think and focuses on the feel of her.

Mal’s tongue dances over sensitive skin, sliding and caressing until every nerve ending is on fire. When she reaches Regina’s nipple, carefully swirling firmly over it before taking it in her mouth, Regina is already lost to her.

“You feel amazing,” she pants, her hands are in her lover’s hair now, holding her in place.

Mal sucks harder, then draws her teeth over the stiff peaks of her breasts, and the feeling is so intense she gasps.

Mal directs her attention to her other breast, cupping and kneading before bringing her mouth to her nipple, giving it the same treatment she had given the last.

But this time, her free hand dips down, down between her legs. Her fingers explore under the water, feeling blindly at her sex. She knows she’s desperately turned on and is not surprised when Mal finds her clit easily, currents of water tickling her thighs as Mal rubs small, firm circles right where she needs her.

She bites her lip out of habit. Usually, silence is important when she’s touching herself, and that’s the only time she’s really felt this type of pleasure before.

But they are in a safe, private space, and there’s no need. So she lets herself gasp and sigh as she moves her own hand over Mal’s shifting it slightly and then pressing firmly against her palm, urging her to touch with a bit more force. Mal gets the picture, god does she ever, it feels perfect, her nimble fingers circling her clit, applying much-needed pressure, and — _oh!_

She knows she’s making sounds, but it’s an out of body experience, eyes closed as she focuses on the _feeling,_ blindly reaching for Mal as she kisses and kisses.

When she breaks the kiss, Mal is heavy and panting, but looking a bit devious as she turns to their third wheel.

“Is no part of you jealous of me, Robin Hood?” Mal asks. Regina darts her eyes toward him in time to see his hand move quickly away from his crotch.

The movement only serves to make her look toward his lap. He’s hard, an erection straining through his trousers that she can see plainly from here.

“All parts of me are jealous of you,” he says slowly. “Very much so.”

At least they are all on the same page. When she looks up at Robin she notices the flush of his cheeks, redness creeping down his neck.

God, he’s attractive.

“The water is cool now,” Mal pouts. “Shall we get out?”

Regina nods and waits for Mal to get out first, watches as her beautiful body rises from the water, droplets of water falling off her skin, her hair.

Everything about Mal just drips with sex, and Regina finds herself watching as she dries her body off, her skin shining and sparkling in the moonlight and warm light of the fire.

“Here you are.” Mal hands the cloth to her, a polite way of reminding her she needs to get out of the tub herself.

It’s not that Regina is _ashamed_ of her body, she isn’t, but she has never been so _on display_ before.

She’s used to quick, primal fucks in the dark, half-clothed, empty in meaning, and this is none of that.

So there are plenty of butterflies scattering in her stomach as she rises, her eyes focused on Robin. He’s watching her, jaw slack, swallowing heavy as she rises.

She pulls her wet hair back and dries the rest of her body off, her cheeks heat as she feels his hungry eyes on her.

“More beautiful than I’ve ever pictured,” he rasps.

“Do you picture me a lot this way?” Regina asks playfully.

“Gods yes,” Robin admits. “You don’t want to know how much, and for so long.”

“Not with another woman, I’d assume,” Mal chuckles. She presses into Regina’s back, wrapping her arms around her front, kissing her shoulder tenderly.

Robin swallows heavily and offers a drunken, lopsided grin. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that if I were you.”

“Oh,” Mal says with a knowing little smile as if he’s just revealed something telling about herself. “Do you want to be with both of us tonight?”

When Regina and Robin are silent, Mal clarifies, “I ask that question of both of you.”

Robin is looking at her, as he always does, waiting for her to express her wishes first. But she can tell, from that longing expression, he wants this as desperately she does.

“Yes, if it pleases both of you,” Regina answers with as much confidence as she can muster.

Robin murmurs something in response, a bit of a grunt, something like _Of course it does,_ and of course, indeed, his consent was never really a question.

Mal is dotting kisses along her shoulder, her neck, her hands moving to grope at her breasts.

“You’re wearing too far too many clothes, Robin,” Mal says nearly above a whisper. He’s only managed to get his boots off, after all.

He takes the hint, stands at the edge of the bed and removes his tunic.

The rain soaked his shirt, so his skin glistens as he rids himself of the garment. Gods, he’s strong, muscular, she has always known that. There have been moments over the years, during a heist, when they are packed into a tight space for warmth or shelter, or when she’s fallen and has been there to catch her — just a few times when she’s found herself pressed up against Robin’s chest. He’s always been solid and firm, and she’s thought about what he might look like, fantasized about being pressed up against him for far better reasons.

She thinks he might prefer the reality to her fantasies, watching him undress for her, unlacing trousers and then carefully stepping out of them and his underclothes.

Maleficent is on her, an arm cupping and rubbing at her breast as her other hand rests at her shoulder, nuzzling into her neck, her mouth searching for that spot that lights her on fire, and she motions for Robin to join her.

He does, makes his way to her slowly at first eyes dark with lust, just watching Maleficent work her up.

But when he gets close enough, he cups at the back of her neck in a swift movement and draws her into a desperate, heady kiss.

She’s missed kissing him every day since the last time, and it’s no less wonderful than her memories.

She doesn’t want to stop.

His body is flush with hers, erection making itself known between them. He’s taller than she, so it does not quite line up where she needs him, but feeling it alone sends everything into overdrive, has her feeling hot and impatient for more.

He grinds his hips against her as they kiss and kiss, rubbing himself into her belly. Fuck he’s hard, ready, wants her as badly as she does.

She’s unable to resist reaching down between them, grabbing him and giving him a firm tug.

He breaks the kiss with an appreciative gasp, and that’s when Maleficent leans over her shoulder, drawing Robin into another passionate kiss.

She’s between them as they kiss and pant, too close to really see how beautiful they must be, but still able hear each soft little sigh, each smacking of lips and muffled growls between them.

It’s ungodly erotic, and as she squeezes her thighs together for desperate relief from the ache she feels, she notices how slick she is, how wet, how ready.

Mal breaks the kiss first, patting Regina on her backside lightly.

“Let’s continue this in bed,” she says with a sultry glance, grabbing Regina’s hand and ushering her towards it.

“Lie down, gorgeous,” Mal rasps in her ear, biting the lobe softly.

Mal is clearly leading things, and that’s fine by Regina. Without her urging them on, she might just run away from all of this again. Robin is far too patient, far too kind, she cares for him far too much.

Mal being here is good. It’s less likely that the sex will become intimate and feelsy and… whatever she feels will blossom between them if she ever lets it happen.

She’s nervous, but not oppressively so, as she lies back against the soft mattress, and then Mal is next to her, kissing her as her hands roam over her body.

It’s all soft touches and light groping for awhile, until Regina’s hands grow bold, until she touches between Mal’s legs.

She’s wet, the top of her thighs even coated in arousal, fuck, the feel of her is intoxicating. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, having never been with a woman herself, but she lets desire take over, fingers sliding through her folds, reveling in how swollen and hot she is.

It takes a bit of fumbling, but she finds her clit, fingers circling and pressing in a way that has Mal jerking and writing next to her.

“Gods, yes, there!” and then they are a tangle of limbs til Mal is on her back, Regina hovering over her, watching as she works her up with her hand, listening to the way she gasps and sighs, learning her body, finding a pace that makes her groan with pleasure.

“Robin,” Mal calls out in a heady moan, “Come lie with us.”

He doesn’t have to be asked twice. He lies on the other side of Mal, who cups the back of his head and draws him into a deep kiss.

Regina leaves him to kiss her, focuses on her breasts, sucking and fondling while she gives her clit those firm strokes she seems to love. She’s vaguely aware that Mal’s hand is busy, gripping and jerking Robin’s cock, but she’s too preoccupied to watch.

“Regina!” Mal gasps, and she loves her name on those lips, it’s absolute bliss hearing it.

“Fuck.”

She hears Robin moan it, and when she looks up he’s staring at her instead of kissing Mal, which is rather rude — or it would be, but Mal is enjoying her touch, practically riding Regina’s hand.

“Regina, can you… can you use your mouth?”

And she wants to desperately but she has to admit with a bit of reservation “I… I don’t know how.”

It’s a mortifying confession, but one she has to make. She hasn’t much experience, really there’s been only one man who has ever tried it _on her,_ and he was quick, seemed more concerned with using his spit as a lubricant than working her up, so she’s not even experienced this done to _her,_ how could she know how to please another?

“It’s easy,” Robin says, scooching down Mal’s body. “I can tell you how.” He looks at Mal’s sex, slides his fingers through it and curses softly. “She’s all worked up. But I would start with her inner thighs first. Build up to it.”

Regina listens to him, dotting a trail of kisses up one thigh, then the other, each time getting closer and closer to her sex. And then she’s tracing her tongue around Mal’s outer lips, wetness reaching her lips as Mal begins to shift and moan.

“Fuck her with your tongue,” Robin rasps, and Regina cannot help but moan both at the idea and the sound of his voice directing her.

She takes a tentative lick from the bottom to the very top of Mal’s sex, even swirls her tongue around her clit.

“Mm, fuck that feels good, when you touch me there, I—”

For a moment Regina considers paying all her attention to the most sensitive part — that’s how she gets herself off, after all.

But Mal tastes amazing, her sex is warm and slick, and she finds herself unable to resist dipping in for seconds.

If she was warm on the outside, she’s molten on the inside, soaked and sensitive, from the sounds she makes she’s enjoying all of this

She continues exploring her, tongue, feeling Robin’s hand on her back as she eats at her, but she’s not listening to him anymore, she’s lost in the experience.

“I need—!” Mal gasps and Regina knows, she’s a woman after all, so she drags her tongue out and up until she’s swirling around that sensitive bundle and nerves and Mal is crying out, gasping her name and Robin’s. She feels the bed move and opens her eyes in time to see Robin crawling up into Mal’s open arms.

They kiss.

She waits for the pang of jealousy to overwhelm her, but it never comes.

She eats at Maleficent more fervently, responding to the way her body is _trembling_ for her, stealing glances at the two, catching Mal kissing him touching, her hand loosely wrapped around his cock, giving him a stroke or two, nothing that will finish him, but Regina imagines it must somewhat relieve the tension, the way he gasps and moans, rocks into her.

There’s a wetness between her thighs that’s growing, she tells herself that soon, she knows soon, they will reciprocate, both of them, fuck, please…

“Mm- harder!” Maleficent gasps. Regina complies as best she can, pressing her tongue as firmly as she can against her hardened clit.

Maleficent squirms under her, “faster!” she begs, and “oh gods, just like that!”

Robin’s eyes are on her, he moans softly, shutting his eyes for a moment as if he can hardly bear to look at her in this position. Maleficent reaches for him blindly, moving his hands onto her tits and pulling him into another kiss, and then there’s a chorus of moans as Maleficent thrusts hard into her mouth and comes.

“Oh fuck,” Maleficent gasps, all sweaty and satiated.

Regina feels the ache growing between her legs, jealous of the relief on the beautiful woman’s face, but proud nonetheless.

“You’re a natural,” Mal pants, “Would have never known it was your first time.”

Regina just laughs as she moves to lie next to her.

“It’s easy to be good at something if you enjoy it,” she says honestly.

Mal gives her a grateful, heartfelt peck on the lips and her heart soars while that ache grows ever more present.

Robin makes some sort of sound at that, some little breathy exhale, and Maleficent laughs, still out of breath as she asks, “Are you alright over there, prince of thieves?”

“Barely,” Robin admits. Gods he looks a sight right now, his face flushed, his eyes so dark.

“Is like to watch you two together,” Mal murmurs, rubbing her hand down Regina’s arm in a way that shouldn’t be erotic. “If you work together nearly as well as you just did on me it will be… explosive. And besides, I need a moment. Still.,.”

Regina flushes. This wasn’t supposed to be just her and Robin together. That’s… it’s dangerous, is what it is. She feels too much for him, if she’s with him like that, she might fall into something too deep to ever swim out of.

At other times the feeling of being surrounded and stuck feeling _so much_ for him was terrifying.

But now, with the way he looks at her, the things that he’s saying, after how he’s treated her tonight, she realizes that if she falls, at least she won’t be the only one. They will be trapped with each other together, at least.

“Come here,” she has the boldness to say to Robin.

“Are you sure?” he asks tentatively, “I want you so badly, but I don’t want to—“

“I am sure,” Regina smiles. “Stop being so chivalrous for a damned second and come lay with me.”

He gets off of his side of the bed to join her on the other side. Maleficent scoots to the edge and looks at them with interest.

“You truly are a thief with honor, aren’t you?”

“Not entirely,” Robin says as he gingerly lies at Regina’s side. “My thoughts are far from honorable at the moment.”

Regina takes a moment to drink him in, each muscle, each smooth patch of skin, not even ashamed to look at his cock, all hard and long and standing at attention for her.

When her eyes meet his, he’s not smug, he looks a bit… well, drunk. That’s as close to this look as she remembers seeing, when he’d drunk too much wine and gives her these intense stares that have her mind reeling, imagining its more than just liquor in his veins, that it was desire, or even something more.

It seems it might be, now.

She runs a hand through his hair shyly, her name is a ghost of a whisper on his lips, completely focused on her.

She draws him in for a kiss, and it’s every bit as magnetic as it always it with him, and there’s no one cheering or clapping, no audience to behave in front of (she’s not embarrassed around Mal in the slightest).

She wants him, wants him to touch her and be inside of her, but she’s actually longed to kiss him for as long as she wanted for _years_ now, and once they start, she finds she’s addicted and unable to stop.

That’s how they find themselves tangled up in one another, naked and so turned on, yet more than content to just trade kisses.

His lips are soft, his tongue moves softly and slowly against hers, he is passionate and loving, gentle but not passive.

His hands roam her body, squeezing over curves when he gets a bit greedy, but mostly stroking, cupping and exploring each curve.

“Gods, Regina,” he moans, “my love…”

She should be scared of the words, but she isn’t, not at this moment, it could be just his cock speaking, but she knows it’s not. He loves her, she loves him. And she’s run from that simple fact for years and she might run again but right now, she’s just going to enjoy it.

She feels her breath on his skin as he moves to kiss at her jaw, her neck. She cups the back of his head and just indulges in the feeling of him.

“I want to taste you,” his voice all low and raspy as he admits it, “wanted to forever, I—”

She clenches in anticipation and then nods.

He kisses her way down her belly, licking her belly button in a way that makes her write and giggle, but he’s not laughing, he still looks _hungry_.

He pulls her down the bed, so her rear is just on the edge, then he’s kneeling in front her, hooking one of her legs around his shoulder and kisses the tender flesh of her inner thigh.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs, rubbing his fingers through her folds with a satisfied groan, “and so, so, wet.”

 

A smile spreads on her face. His beard tickles the faintest bit, has her skin breaking out into goosebumps, it’s a _good_ feeling, this is nothing like she’s had before, and it makes her flush, has her feeling like a damned virgin after all this time.

He’s still working her up, kissing and giving her these soft little sucks along her thighs, and she thinks she might die and finally be alive for the first time.

He draws a smooth lick down the crease where her thigh meets her hip the dots kisses along the same path, and it’s a few more quick pecks until he’s at her sex, swiping a tongue through her wetness.

“Gods, Robin!” Regina gasps, cupping the back of his head with her hand, tugging him toward her.

She hears his muffled breath against her sex, feels the vibration of his voice against her.

“You taste incredible,” he praises right before sinking his tongue inside her.

He moves then to where she is most sensitive, his tongue on her as his fingers circle her entrance.

“Can I?” he asks, and she nods, though her body tenses.

He slips two fingers inside her and it’s _good,_ it’s not like other times, when she’s not been prepared and there’s a bit of pain, that white-hot sensation she’s learned to grit her teeth through. Still, she waits for it, almost, waits for the pain, her body tensing and betraying her.

God, she just wants to enjoy this.

And just when she’s worrying she’s ruined herself for this type of pleasure, Mal touches her, just a thumb on her cheek.

“I was right,” her voice is all sultry and sex-laced, “ you two are explosive to watch. You look so beautiful when you are in pleasure. So gorgeous,” Mal kisses at her chest, down to her nipples, sucking each stiffened peak with enough pressure tossed a shock down to her clit as Robin eats at her, the dual attention having her writhe and moan louder than she should.

“Mm, so sensitive,” she coos, kissing between her breasts, then kissing her way back up Regina’s neck. “Is that for both of us?”

“Yes, mm!” Regina groans, rocking her hips into Robin’s mouth, that knot in her belly is working itself out, she can feel the tension leaving her. “You both feel so good.”

Mal’s hair is still damp from their bath, but it’s started to dry now, soft, wavy strands falling and framing her face in a way that makes her look a bit wild or dangerous, but incredibly desirable.

“I wanted you the moment I saw you,” Mal says, her voice so smooth as she runs her hand across Regina's body. “So beautiful, but also brave, proud. Smart. I like that. But I didn’t know,” she bends to kiss her chest, “how breathtaking you are like this.” Mal kisses her again, then looks down at Robin. Regina follows her eyes. Robin looking up at them, his mouth and hands still working magic between her legs.

He looks… incredibly aroused by the sight of them.

And that somehow emboldens Regina, grants her permission to take, to indulge, to give into the feeling without the cloud of doubt and nerves that had threatened to hang over her before.

She lies back and revels as they both touch her, take her, give her pleasure. She’s greedy and selfish with it, gripping the back fo Robin’s head when the need for his tongue to grind against her clit becomes overwhelming, pulls Mal in for a kiss as she gasps and writhes.

They send her over into ecstasy together, she shivers and cries out a surprised “Oh!” before her orgasm washes over her in electrify cascading waves.

Robin lets her ride it out on his fingers and his tongue. When the last of the sensation leaves her, he tumbles forward onto the bed at her side, panting as he cuddles into her.

“A skilled thief,” Mal goggles, “If it felt as good as it looked, that is.”

“I’m sure it felt much, much better,” Regina says with a shy smile.

Robin kisses her, a quick little peck, and then grins proudly. “I’m glad,” he tells her, “You looked unbelievable.”

“Mm, you’re just complimenting yourself more,” Regina teases. She strokes his cheek as she looks into his eyes, she feels so close to him, so safe and connected that the words just tumble out.

“That was the first time I ever… with another person, I never…”

He is kissing her before she can bear to finish her confession.

“I think that means you have some catching up to do with those who know what they are doing,” he tells her, his thumb tracing her lips. “You deserve to have this every time.”

She laughs, the idea of it is almost unfathomable.

“I don’t think it’s a lack of skill. I don’t think the idea of mutual pleasure has ever been considered. It never was… it wasn’t this before. It wasn’t supposed to be, all the other times. It was… something else.”

Robin frowns, he looks genuinely upset at her words.

Mal jumps in to explain. “We are women who travel alone. Sometimes the price of a man’s cooperation or companionship is, well…”

“I’ll kill them,” Robin says, a fire in his eyes. “Anyone who ever forced you, or made you feel like you had no choice, I swear I’ll kill them, —“

“Robin,” she runs a hand down his chest. “It’s okay. It is not so awful.”

“It is,” Robin insists. “It should it be like that for you. I don’t want it to _ever_ be like that for you again.

And it’s not possessiveness, it’s not that at all, because he was fine with Maleficent being with her, it’s just… he cares.

He continues, “I have a group of men who will work with you, who will work with you and be more than fair when it comes to splitting whatever is earned, and they will never take what isn’t freely given. Whatever you need, you can ask of us.”

He truly does care enough to where she makes a promise she’s not sure she can keep.

“I won’t let it be like that again,” she tells him. “Doesn’t seem quite so appealing anymore, honestly.”

She reaches down to give his cock a slow, firm stroke, he’s still half hard, and her touch is already moving him further along, he groans at the feel of her.

She turns back to Mal and gives her a shy smile. “Are we ignoring you?”

“I am enjoying just watching,” Mal tells her again. “You two are… quite something together.”

Robin chuckles. “And you don’t even know our history.”

“I’d like to know,” Mal admits. “One day perhaps you will tell me. But for now, don’t worry about me. If I want to join in, I will.”

Regina doesn’t doubt it, Mal is hold and confident.

She seems genuinely curious about her and Robin, though. So Regina decides to give her this enchanting woman a show.

“Be with me,” she asks if Robin, those firm strokes of his cock growing stronger, faster. “Show me what it should feel like.”

“Gladly,” Robin murmurs, pressing his lips to hers.

He worships her body, slowly kissing down each curve, palming her rear, giving it a squeeze, and she remembers how many times she’s caught him staring at her as she walks away.

She wonders how long he’s wanted this. The thought makes her dizzy with lust.

“Robin?” she asks, as his lips caress her skin.

“Mm?” he asks softly, pressing a kiss to her belly.

“Fuck me,” she asks, wiggling underneath him. The anticipation is almost overwhelming, the thought of having sex, good sex, with him is consuming her.

He exhales slowly, got breath blowing against her abdomen.

Are you ready?” he asks. He runs his hand through her sex (she’s still slippery and soaked, more than prepared for this), his eyes not leaving hers. “Not too sensitive?”

“I’m fine,” she assures, truly touched, “I want you.”

He kneels between her open legs but still hesitates, and she thinks she may die of impatience and excitement all at once.

“You are so important to me,” he breathes, “I am yours. Whatever you want, whatever you need. I’ll never take anything from you, I need you to know this.”

“I do,” she assures, “please, show me how _important_ I am.”

He lets out a shaky exhale and then guides himself into her.

He takes it slow, which is good because he’s, well, not the biggest or thickest she’s ever been with, but it’s been a long time, and he certainly isn’t lacking in that department.

She’s been holding on to some unknown tension but it fades away, her body relaxes and she clenches against him as he slides all the way inside her. She’s so wet, there’s barely any resistance, yet he makes her feel full, stretches her in the best of ways.

“Fuck, Regina, love, you feel so damn perfect,” he groans. “Gods, you have no idea… I…”

She feels so wanted, so right with him, she feels like laughing and crying at the same time

“Love, are you ready?” He asks.

“Very,” she says in a low whisper. “You can move now.

“I want it to feel good,” he warns, “you tell me if it doesn’t.”

She nods. She goes shy when he grips at the back of her knee and draws it up, hooking her leg behind his shoulder.

He has the experience, she knows he has had sex for pleasure, he’s given it to other women. He must be doing it because it will make it feel better.

So when he asks if this is okay, if she’s comfortable, she nods.

He already knows the angle and the speed she likes, he tested that out with his fingers, after all, so she’s not entirely surprised when after a few trial strokes he’s found a spot that has her crying out, “There!”

“Okay, darling, just there,” he murmurs, “fuck, gods, you feel amazing, I—!”

His jaw locks and his lips press tightly together as he fucks her, that smooth, hard cock of his sliding in and out of her, hitting that spot deep inside that makes her see white. she gasps and grips at the bedding, completely forgetting to keep it down as a particular thrust of his hips has her see stars and make an almost unearthly sound, loud and desperate.

“Mm, love, that’s it,” Robin coaxes, “Want to make it feel good, so good for you. You’re all I— gods your beautiful—- mm! You’re all I’ve wanted for so long.”

The pleasure curls and dances over her body, it reaches her head in dizzy waves and takes over as she admits, “Me, too.”

He reaches down between them until his thumb rings that bundle of nerves, rubbing over it with calloused fingertips in tight, tense circles.

He’s not asked her a question but she finds herself nodding anyway. “Fuck, Robin, mm! Like that, just like that!”

He fucks at her faster while he presses into her clit harder, and that’s when she starts to lose control, when her body starts to move as of on its own, her sex squeezing around his cock as he sinks into her, and she’s writhing and panting and making thoroughly unladylike sounds, but then she never was a lady at all…

Stars burst behind her eyes as the pleasure zings and churns, and she's grabbing at his free arm, the muscular upper arm that’s solid and safe and wonderful.

He presses hard into her and thrusts at just the right moment, and she feels completely lost to the sensation, all that tension spins out, her body spasms convulses around him as she cries out his name.

“Did … did you just—?” he pants. “That felt.. so damned good, I just.. you… feel…”

She answers, not in words, but by blindly reaching for his hand and pushes it off where she’s now too sensitive to be stimulated. He hums.

“Good?” he asks needlessly. He already knows...

She thinks he probably is being smug about this but when she manages to look at him she finds him looking so desperate for her it makes her clit pulse again.

“That felt amazing,” she praises, and then “I want to feel you come, too.”

She gripes at his ass with both her hands, urging him to fuck her faster.

He’s loud, too, as he picks up speed, he keeps calling her “love” and “darling” as he gasps and moans, letting loose a string of compliments that make her blush. She knows the moment he spills into her from the satisfied, relieved groan that comes out of him, from the way his body slows inside her. He takes his time, riding it out, and Regina is grateful for it, soaking in every last moment of them being one, of being joined together.

He keeps moving until he softens inside her, so perhaps he feels the same way, groaning and collapsing next to her when he can no longer stay inside her.

They don’t speak for a bit, prefer to just trade kisses and soft touches, sharing in some intimate afterglow she hadn’t expected to find herself experiencing, not something you experience in a _threesome_.

Oh god, a threesome. That’s right.

She turns to Mal guiltily and apologizes, “We’ve neglected you, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“I’m not feeling neglected,” Mal says softly. She runs a hand down Regina’s body tenderly. “This was… well, beautiful, quite frankly. What you two have is rare. It’s a type of love you cannot help but fall in love with yourself a little bit.”

Regina’s cheeks heat and she cannot speak it, but Mal might be very well right despite everything she’s done to deny herself this. “Love” is a luxury she’s told herself she can never have. She’s seen the destructive parts of love and views it as one of life’s most dangerous pitfalls. She’s seen countless men and women betrayed by those they love, she’s watched Queen Snow turn into a monster over love. She’s seen people sacrifice and die, commit suicide and drink themselves to death over love. It is one of the worst types of disease ravaging the Kingdom in her mind.

She promised herself she would never fall because love would surely be her downfall. She knew already how susceptible she would be to _that_ kind of love. When she feels, she does so _deeply_ , she’s do anything for the people she cares about if romantic love was involved she’d sure she’d throw herself into certain death to protect it.

So she’s fought this thing with Robin for her own protection, but no one would understand, it—-

“I would not say ‘love’. Regina quite hates that emotion,” Robin says simply, and she turns back to him in almost fear— can he read her mind?

“I see the way you look when someone does something stupid in the name of love,” Robin explains. “And what you said to Mulan that time she was heartbroken.”

Regina’s cheeks heat. She had such sympathy for her. “Such a strong woman, I never thought anything could break her,” she admits. “She has withstood torture by Snow’s guards, she can take a beating like none other.”

“And then a strong woman like that was crying into her ale at the tavern over a lost love,” Robin remembers.

Regina nods.

“You told her you wished this terrible affliction didn’t overcome her, that you wished there was a cure, a way to prevent falling into this feeling that traps you.”

“Well that is quite an interesting perspective on love,” Mal laughs, her hand still on Regina’s body, tracing circles and other patterns with her fingertips. “Though I can understand why, in these times, it might be seen as a weapon. Have you been in love before, Robin Hood?”

“Yes,” he says softly. “Too briefly. She died of illness when we were very young, barely grown. But I loved her. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Regina sighs because she has heard that refrain before, though she’s not entirely sure she would agree. “I’ve been so hurt by those I’ve loved,” she reminds, her voice sounds so weak, so vulnerable. “I loved freely as a child. The love you have for family, for friends, I felt that. The people who raised me, Snow herself… I loved them, and they nearly killed me. Queen Snow still might.”

“I won’t hurt you,” he vows, “but I don’t ask for your love, I would never ask for that.”

He has it anyway, she realizes. And the thought would usually have her fleeing in terror, but now it seems so… manageable.

“Have you loved before?” Regina asks of Mal, her eyes darting toward the wiser woman, looking for some perspective. Surely she must have experienced the same thing she has, death and destruction in the name of something that is supposed to be one of the gods most precious gifts to mankind.

“I have,” Mal whispers. “Queen Briar Rose. It’s the reason why Aurora hates me so much. Her father was not the man she thinks he was. He was awful and cruel. I gave Briar what happiness I could while she was on this earth, and she gave me so much in return.”

Maleficent sighs softly. “It was worth every bit of the pain, as awful as heartbreak and mourning can be, of that I am certain.”

“Was it worth you being forced to live as a bandit, to be starving and cold and running away from fairies, to—“

“Yes,” Maleficent says quickly, “without a doubt, it was worth every last damned thing I’ve suffered since.”

Regina’s eyes dart back to Robin’s, and she tries to think of a day when he could hurt her, could leave her broken and in pain.

She can’t see him doing that to her ever, really. For years now all he’s done is show her how much he cares.

“Enough serious talk,” Mal declares. “Tonight is for fun, isn’t it?”

“True,” Regina sighs, looking at Robin. He’s looking at her as if so much is left unsaid between them. And it is, but she doesn’t really know where to start, at least not tonight.

“Tonight we should please one another, share a new experience,” Mal coos.

“Haven’t we already done that?” Robin chuckles.

Mal flashes a devilish smile and admits, “We have this room for the rest of the night and into the morning. There is time for more if you two wish it.”

She trades a look with Robin, and for all they obviously feel for one another, they are adventurous people, and this night, well, it’s quite an adventure. They’ve had their moment, and somehow the intimacy doesn’t feel ruined at all by the woman sharing it with them. It’s almost like Mal belongs. Regina can think of many more things she’d like to share with them both, things that would go well into the sun rises, things that would have made her flush to even fantasize about before tonight. She trades a knowing smile with Robin and knows that once again, he is on the same page.

“I think that would please us _very_ much,” Regina answers, watching the way Robin’s eyes light up, the edges of his cheeks crinkle as he smiles.

Regina already feels more than she expected for the woman next to her — respect, affection, admiration, and well, a certain gratefulness. She would have continued to run from happiness her whole life, run from her feelings for women, run from the intimate part of sex, run from _Robin_ for perhaps her whole life. She might never know what all of this feels like, the indescribable feeling of being with someone who _cares_ about you, of having _pleasurable_ sex, of being with someone you want without fear of what it will make you.

In a way, she has Mal to thank for all of it.

And thank the gods, the night isn’t over, yet.

 

 

 


End file.
